Communication Lines
by streetlights and music
Summary: When words aren't enough, Neku communicates with people through kisses. In other words: Four people Neku kissed, and one he didn't. Alternatively: Four people Neku didn't fuck, and one he did. Neku/Joshua, Neku/everyone.


**Word Count:** 3617

**Note:** Rated M for a sex scene towards the end. I am obviously transparent enough that you'd know which TWEWY pairing I'm biased with. But hey, you can't deny that it was practically canon anyway. Arguably.

**A/N:** I know, I know. I should be working on _Turn Around_, or probably even _In The Sidelines. _Writer's block got to me though (I know what to write, I just can't bring myself to write it), and then I started playing TWEWY again 'cause I never really got past Week 2 Day 7 (it was sooooo not because I didn't want Joshua's week to end, why would you think that, life got in the way, okay?). Anyway, I spoiled myself through that LP in the SA forums, so yeah, beware of spoilers.

Not that there's anything spoiler-y here except for the Composer's identity. Though it should already be a given _not_ to read any TWEWY fanfic until you at least finished the main game's story, what with all the plot twists involved.

Reviews are nice.

* * *

He first fell in love with his best friend.

He couldn't remember when exactly they met, and how. All he remembers was the lack of awkwardness – the overflowing sincerity. It all seemed so _natural_; started out like it was played by fate's hand. So carefree and free-flowing and _easy_, like it was meant to happen. Perhaps across time and space, amongst other Nekus in other dimensions, if he hadn't died and paved the way for Joshua to find a proxy, he would have been his future lover.

It was a chaste relationship, nothing more than two best friends being best friends. Back then, back when he was young and naïve and _happy_, Neku would think that they were inseparable. That they were meant to be lost in their own place; two people standing against the world.

He often wrote on Neku's arm. Sometimes they were simple doodles, none of them really meaning anything. Other times, he would write down lyrics because they're on the train and they don't have paper at hand, and it's not like Neku minds if his arms were covered with ink and pseudo-tattoos. Neku always transfers everything to his sketchbook at the end of the day, because it's not like he can just stop washing his arms. Then his best friend wouldn't have any space to doodle on anymore.

Neku thought all he needed was his best friend.

He was the one who introduced Neku to CAT's art; the one who showed him the mural in Udagawa because he wanted to share this message, this treasure, this sanctuary that spoke to him. He was the one who encouraged Neku to pursue the arts; buying sketchbooks and pencils and paint and stencils because he knew Neku would appreciate them.

Neku received his first sketchbook from him. A gift, to celebrate their friendship.

"I know you'll run out of space in three months' time," he said, grinning. Then he planted a quick peck on Neku's left cheek. It was nothing serious or extremely meaningful, and they were both laughing after it was over. The sketchbook wasn't big or expensive, but the cover was scrapped for a handcrafted collage of sorts, with designs resembling the graffiti art prevalent in Shibuya.

Neku surprised both of them when he kissed him on the lips in response. It was quick, chaste, and unrefined, but it didn't really matter because his best friend was laughing through the kiss, their breath mingling and _god_. It felt nice to have someone smiling and kissing back, without a care in the world.

"That's some thank you," his best friend had said, his eyes twinkling and his breathing heavy from laughing and kissing. They didn't use tongue; the thought never even crossed their minds. After all, the kiss was perfect anyway.

He grabbed Neku's wrist and quickly doodled something – Neku couldn't remember what that was. But he remembers the way his eyes shone, like he couldn't be happier and the moment couldn't be any more perfect. Five seconds later, they were both laughing again; drinking in the moment as they made their way to Udagawa to marvel at CAT's art.

It was Neku's first kiss, the only kiss he ever shared with the first person who opened the world to him.

* * *

He knows Eri is looking from the corner of her eyes whenever he kisses Shiki.

He doesn't think she's jealous anymore, because everyone knows Shiki is with Eri, and Eri is with Shiki, and no force in this planet – no, not even that damn Composer – can ever pull them apart. Ever.

Neku wonders if this is what true love means.

He used to kiss Shiki on the lips because he has always been a kisser. Sometimes when Neku can't find the words, or when he just can't spit out whatever is on his mind, he just kisses her. He wants to protect Shiki, to be her friend. He wants to apologize over and over again for almost killing her without hesitation, wants her to know that he's not the jackass she first met – not anymore. He's trying to _live_, and he wants her to know that.

Sometimes he can't say it because the words are caught at the back of his throat, and he can't force them out. Most of the time, the words are just too _overwhelming_ that he chokes on them, and it's kinda hard to translate all these emotions washing over him with words.

So he kisses her instead.

Her lips are soft and sweet, and Neku feels guilty because this is wrong. But he knows he'll feel worse if he doesn't let it out, if he doesn't let Shiki know that he's changing. Regretting. Living.

Shiki understands though. Neku doesn't know how, but she understands. Maybe it's because she spent a whole week scanning other people's thoughts and looking inside herself. Maybe she just knows Neku a lot better than he realized. She kisses back, to let him know she understands.

"What do you think?" Shiki asks. She twirls around, letting the dress flow freely, following her movements. Neku takes a sharp intake of breath, truly awed. He isn't fashion-forward – he didn't really follow the trends except for those three weeks he spent playing the Reaper's Game – but he honestly does believe that the clothes Shiki and Eri make are _beautiful_.

"They look _perfect_ on you!" Eri exclaims excitedly. She nudges Neku with her elbow. "Don't you think so, Neku?"

"You look good," Neku says, smiling. He takes a step forward, takes in Shiki's presence, sees how much she changed from the envious girl he met in Week 1. She's confident of herself now, no longer a pretty wallflower clinging to Eri. Though her choice of clothing is much more modest and less loud, she still shines. She's till bright. She's still Shiki.

She's beautiful, and Neku wants to protect her and let her know how happy he is to see _her_ happy.

He almost leans in too close, almost brushes his lips against her, but he catches himself in time. He promised Shiki he would stop, promised himself he wouldn't get in the way between her and Eri. He bites his lips and steps back, because he's too close and Eri is looking at him again, but not saying anything. Shiki watches him, waiting for him to do something because she knows there's something Neku wants to convey, but can't.

"You and Eri did a great job," Neku says instead. He kisses Shiki on the cheek though, because he's still learning and he can't help himself and that's just how he communicates sometimes. But at least he's not claiming her lips anymore.

Shiki smiles, and Neku knows she understands. "Thank you, Neku."

Eri clasps her hands in front of her with a proud look on her face. "You look beautiful, Shiki," she says. "Now all the boys in the party will be staring at you!"

Shiki rolls her eyes. "We'll see who gets jealous when that happens."

"Puh-lease. Like I'll let anyone make a move on you," Eri says. "There's nothing wrong with showing the world how pretty my girl is, though." She takes Shiki's hands in hers and gives her a radiant smile; the one she reserves for Shiki, and only Shiki. Shiki smiles back, laughter caught between her teeth.

Neku steps back further and lets them have a moment to themselves. He still kisses Shiki sometimes, when Eri isn't around, because that's just how he shows affection, that's just who he is. And Shiki understands; she always does. But he's learning not to do that anymore, because it's Eri who should be capturing Shiki's lips and telling her she's beautiful, not Neku.

* * *

Out of all his friends, Rhyme would be the one who received the most kisses.

Sometimes it's just a peck on the cheek. Nothing wrong with that. Other times, Neku would kiss her on the forehead.

But he would never, ever, kiss her on the lips unless she asks.

Rhyme is both fragile and strong, and Neku always felt like he should protect her, the way he wanted to protect Shiki. But Shiki has Eri, and Rhyme has Beat, so Neku doesn't come in between. He isn't her knight-in-shining-armor, never thought of himself that way, but he will always be there to watch over her because he doesn't want to lose someone important to him again.

She's a perceptive girl, something that Neku appreciated in her. She's like a constant anchor Neku can rely on, because she's smarter than she looks, and twice as understanding. Whenever Beat is busy with his part-time job, and Shiki with her clothes, Rhyme would turn to Neku and just hang out. They talk about a lot of things, and sometimes, nothing at all.

"Kissing comes naturally to you, doesn't it? It's how you communicate," Rhyme says offhandedly just after Neku's lips alight the top of her head. She's smiling up at him, not at all bothered by Neku's affectionate display. She grabs his sketchbook and flips over the pages, admiring each sketch even though she's seen them ten times before.

"I guess you could say that," Neku says. It's amazing how easy it is for Neku to feel relaxed around her. He sits down beside her and asks to draw her again. She nods, returning the sketchbook. "Do you know what your dream is now?"

"I don't know what I want to do yet, but my dreams will come to me one day," Rhyme says. She doesn't move, because Neku is drawing her and she doesn't want to smudge the sketch too much. She likes Neku's art, likes that he has something to be passionate about. "Do you plan to take art seriously, like CAT?"

"Maybe," Neku says. He looks at Rhyme, sees the innocence and hope in those eyes despite everything she experienced during the Reaper's Game. It's amazing how she could be so strong. He looks down at this sketchbook, tries to find a way to capture that strength on paper. Because this is Rhyme in her most natural state, free and open to the possibilities Shibuya has to offer. "I'm not that well-known yet, but I have a few minor projects in mind. It'll get me started."

"Must be nice to have something to shoot for," Rhyme says.

Neku leans forward and kisses her on the cheek. She doesn't blush – she never blushes when Neku kisses her – but she smiles in such an endearing way that Neku wants to capture this moment on paper, cherish the smile the world is missing out on. "You'll find something to shoot for, someday."

"Will you draw that moment once it happens?"

Neku tears the page from his sketchbook, and hands it to Rhyme. "Of course."

* * *

Neku's world is hazy and wishy-washy, like everything is made from sloshing liquid, by the time he kisses Beat.

He never goes to a party or club without Beat, mainly because he isn't really a party-goer. He's an introvert by heart, and though he's really trying to "live in the moment," parties just aren't his thing. He likes the music though, taps his feet to the rhythm and lets the bass vibrate through his bones when he dances. Beat doesn't mind hanging out with him, so he tags along whenever Neku is dragged to a club or some other.

Most of the time, it's Beat who does the dragging anyway.

Tonight though, Neku isn't in the mood because a certain Composer decided to be a jerk to him again. Beat wouldn't hear any of it, thinks that the club's music would do him good and lighten up his mood a little. Neku doesn't necessarily agree, and he's still in a sour mood by the time he gets off the dance floor, but he wouldn't deny that he loved the way the music was flowing through the room. It lifted his spirits enough that he at least didn't want to punch the Composer in the face anymore, just hate him for being him. He's tired though, and still frustrated (_stupid Joshua and his stupid tricks and his stupid smirk, condescending prick he is_), so he corners himself to the counter and drowns his emotions away with whatever drinks are at hand for the rest of the night.

Beat finds him an hour later, sulking. "Yo, Phones!" He waves his hand in front of Neku. "You feelin' alright?"

Neku nods – or tries to, anyway. But the world is spinning too fast and he's losing hold of gravity and _fuck_. Why are the colors so bright and blurry at the same time? "I'm, ah, fiii-ine~" He quickly grabs Beat's arms to hold himself steady. He feels lightheaded, and dizzy, and he feels like everything's a blur. He probably shouldn't have accepted all those drinks the girl at the counter kept giving him. But… damn it. Joshua was being a dick, and he needed to get him out of his head before he decides to do something stupid.

Beat shakes his head because Neku's having difficulty standing up. He sighs. "Man, you shoulda stopped. You know you was a light weight."

There's a buzzing in Neku's ears, and everything feels unbalanced and flighty. The bass still reverberates in his body, in his bones, but now he's extremely aware of it and it's driving him up the wall. "I'm nooooot–" He hiccups and loses balance again, but Beat's got him. He's always got Neku's back.

"Dude, le's just bounce. You look out of it."

Neku nods - he actually wanted to leave since a while ago, but Beat was still having fun, and it's not like the music was unbearable, and, yeah, maybe he was drinking too much. They walk out of the place and into the streets, where it's not actually dark because, _hello_, it's Shibuya. There will always be lights and sounds and chatter, but Neku can't really focus on any of that right now.

Beat's supporting him because he's really out of his element, and he can't even trust himself to walk without tripping over his own feet. He usually has control over his alcohol intake (he doesn't even_ like_ the stuff), but perhaps the girl at the counter just gave him one shot too many, and he lost count soon afterwards. He still couldn't get Joshua out of his head though, still couldn't stop the grating feeling even when he's drunk and stumbling.

"Damn fucker," Neku mutters under his breath, and Beat knows it's the alcohol that's talking because Neku reaches up and crashes his lips against his. Beat's still not used to this, but at least now he knows better than the first time Neku lip locked him because he was drunk. He should have kept an eye on him – he _knows_ how bad Neku gets when the alcohol starts getting to him – but he lost track when a pretty girl started dancing with him, and yeah, Neku can take care of himself anyway. He survived the Reaper's Game, after all.

It's not like Neku to take out his frustrations on someone, but he's drunk and confused and angry, and even Beat knows he wouldn't be able to get through him in this state. Neku never takes his frustrations out on someone unless he's drunk. And Neku never gets drunk unless he's frustrated about Joshua. They never talk about it, even though Neku sends him apologetic looks afterwards.

Neku whines when Beat doesn't kiss back. So Beat kisses back until they part for air. He ignores the tears threatening to fall down Neku's face, because Neku wouldn't like him to point them out or wipe them off. He knows, because Neku lashed out on him when this happened the first time, and a drunken Neku isn't someone you would want to anger.

Neku kisses him again, harder this time, their teeth crashing and biting. He's not asking for comfort. He's asking for an outlet, somewhere where he can release all this pent-up energy.

It doesn't take long for him to pass out, and Beat catches him before he falls to the ground. After all, he always has Neku's back.

* * *

Neku never kisses Joshua.

There is this unspoken rule between them that Neku never, ever explains: He will never kiss Joshua, will never _want_ to kiss Joshua.

"Fuck, Joshua-_aaah_," Neku says breathlessly as he presses himself against the other boy, grinding their hips together because he _needs_ this friction. He snarls though, when he sees Joshua smirking like the goddamn jerk he is. As if he's been played through _again_, and Neku knows it's not really that far from the truth. He leads Neku in circles, manipulates him with his mind games for who knows why – it's not like Neku's part of the Reaper's Game anymore – and leaves him waiting, each time. Waiting, wanting, and usually naked.

They're not even fully naked yet this time around, but Neku's panting and heaving and it feels like the room just suddenly sucked all the oxygen right out of his lungs. The pleasure is building up down there, the warmth pooling dangerously fast, and seriously, how can Joshua be both so good and _infuriating_ at the same time–

"Aren't we a little excited?" Joshua says with a lilt in his voice. There's amusement in his eyes – there's _always_ amusement in his eyes – as he watches Neku's face contort between frustrated pleasure and a half-hearted attempt to glare at Shibuya's Composer. It's endearing, he thinks, and he makes sure Neku knows what he's thinking.

"Bastard." Neku hates how Joshua has this effect on him. It's stupid. Everything is suddenly so stupid and meaningless, and Joshua's pants aren't exactly easy to strip off him and – oh godhe's reaching down and stroking his length with his hand now. Joshua's _hand_, and suddenly Neku is putty in his arms.

Neku growls and leans forward again, digging his nails in the small of Joshua's back, hoping it would hurt him even a little bit. It's not hard enough to draw blood though, and there's laughter in Joshua's eyes as if he's saying how cute Neku is at giving effort. So he bites down hard on the Composer's skin – the one just between his neck and left shoulder – and feels satisfaction wash over him as Joshua hisses in response.

He doesn't know why Joshua is beautiful – it should be a sin to be this beautiful and Machiavellian at the same time. Maybe it's a requirement for being a Composer, since everyone in the UG are pretty much assholes by definition, some more than others. The Composer just takes the cake, really.

He looks into Joshua's eyes, sees them delighted and amused, and it takes Neku all he has not to crash his lips against his, to kiss away that smug grin off his face. Because he doesn't kiss Joshua, will _never_ kiss Joshua. Joshua can coax him to have sex – it's not like Neku can say no when he's in the body of a hormonal teenager, and Joshua doesn't really need to prove how much of an expert he is at making Neku moan – but kissing is another thing. Kissing is _intimacy_, and fucking doesn't need intimacy.

Joshua never kisses, nor does he ask for one, and that just fine with Neku.

Because he isn't sure of what he'll do if Joshua starts asking for one. Neku feels like he will drown, because he knows he can't deny Joshua no matter how much bitching they throw at each other. It's not love, Neku would never call it that, but it's too overwhelming for this to only be lust. It's bad enough that Joshua – Shibuya's freakin' Composer – can scan his thoughts whenever he wants. If Neku kissed him, communicates everything he is and wants and needs… Neku isn't sure he'll be able to stop himself.

He isn't sure he's ready to leave himself even more vulnerable in the Composer's hands. He trusts Joshua. And it scares him.

Neku's breath hitches as Joshua traces his jaw line with his tongue. He's now painfully aware of the hot breath pressing against his skin, and _fuck_. He arches back and shudders at the sensation. Joshua smiles, but his eyes are looking straight at him with such intensity; eyes lidded and glazed over that Neku finds it difficult not to look back. It's almost like he's waiting for something.

Neku wonders why Joshua doesn't just kiss him. If he wants to play with Neku, stealing a kiss would pretty much have the maximum effect of driving him off the wall, vulnerable as he is. He can't imagine the Composer respecting Neku's one unspoken rule, because hey, this is _Joshua_. Rules don't mean anything to him. Neku almost reaches out, barely stops himself from claiming Joshua's lips and forcing all these emotions into him, slipping them past the Composer's defenses like an undercurrent.

He doesn't kiss him, will _never_ kiss him, but he's close enough that their breaths are mingling and Neku can see something flash in Joshua's eyes – disappointment?

Joshua smirks and gives one long thrust, and it doesn't take much for Neku to moan against his ear, all thoughts vanishing as the pleasure clouds his mind. "Nnngh, Josh_, Joshua,_" Neku whispers, hot breath ghosting over Joshua's ear. He would tug at it, bite down hard enough to make it _hurt_ if only he had as much control over his body as Joshua seems to be having. He shudders, tangling his fingers in Joshua's hair as the Composer thrusts faster with his hand. "F-faster," Neku breathes out, because he's trembling from the buildup, so close to release-

It's just like him to stop moving his hand the second Neku begs for more. Neku groans, bucking his hips to gain more friction, and it's only then he notices that Joshua still has his pants on.

Joshua giggles. Fucking typical. "Ah-ah. Patience is a virtue, Neku dear~"

Neku swears he could punch the Composer off the fucking solar system for being an asshole.

* * *

**A/N:** TWEWY is surprisingly hard and easy to write at the same time. If that makes sense to you.


End file.
